OMEN
by Quinis
Summary: It affected every computer in the world. Every electronic device. Team Bartowski thought they stopped it. They hadn't. Now modern civilisation is on the verge of collapse. People are cut off from loved ones and many are dead or dying. Neal's prepared to fight to survive, even if it costs him the trust of his friends.
1. Chapter 1

** Author's notes: **Welcome to my next story. It's a response to a prompt left on AO3. Since I read it, I always intended to give this one it's own story, unfortunately, that meant the requester's been waiting a little bit longer than intended. While it is a crossover, most of the story will be focusing on the White Collar characters with Chuck elements thrown in. The Chuck cast will appear later on though. They're not being focused on mostly because they're used to action and danger whereas the White Collar cast haven't been involved in something of this size before. (I'll be back to non-twin stories after this one - I just want to get this one done first).

* * *

**OMEN**

* * *

From Saj_te_Gyuhyall at AO3:

_The world has officially gone to HELL. Post Apocalyptic. Any way you want to swing it really (though I'm REALLY not too fond of zombies...) and both teams are caught semi-flat footed, and it's a scramble to survive, at first. _

_Neal's 'team' includes El, June and her granddaughter, Satchmo, Sara maybe, etc. Basically anyone you don't want to see dead! _

_Bryce and Neal have a safe house on an old property away from the beaten path where they both exercised their inner preppers and outfitted it for the END (because you can't tell me that two individuals as trained and paranoid as this particular Con and Spy wouldn't do something like that, lol. And Mozzie would probably help. Enthusiastically.), So they're leading their teams there from opposite sides of the country. Neither one has mentioned their twin to the people in their group (but maybe Chuck and Mozzie already know?), each hoping the other is alive, but not voicing it. Maybe they pick up people along the way (good time to throw in other crossovers, if you're inclined!) It's a hard angsty struggle with many close calls, on both sides, but ends happily/hopefully._

* * *

**Part 1**

* * *

It affected every computer in the world. Every electronic device. Team Bartowski thought they stopped it. They hadn't.

All it took was one line of activation code to bring out the Omen virus and erase every computer in the world. It tore through networks. Power plants, run through computer programs, stopped working. The flight controls in planes locked up without programs to run them and almost every plane in the air crashed, some into buildings, some into mountains, some on flat land where the people inside had a chance to survive. Gas pumps stopped working. Cars with electronic parts shut down and the rest would follow as soon as they ran out of gas.

Traffic lights and street lights went out simultaneously and cars crashed without their headlights, unable to see. Medical equipment failed and not even the hospitals' back-up generators worked.

Electronic locks failed. The world's criminals and crazies released to add to the chaos.

And this wasn't even the worst of it.

* * *

"Peter, please!" Neal was practically begging and Neal never begged. But Peter wasn't listening.

"We're the FBI, Neal," Peter responded as he pounded down the stairs with his holster and badge visible. "Even without orders, we protect the public."

"Hon," El said in a worried tone. She was terrified at the thought of her husband walking outside into this. Things that Mozzie had told her about the end of the world weren't helping to calm her nerves either.

"Peter, there is no FBI right now!" Neal yelled, "there's nothing! All we can do is save who we can!"

Peter glared back at him, showing his inability to accept this. Even though the New York skyline was red and grey, there were cries of panic outside as people ran to check on their loved ones, the sounds of things crashing, blowing up and burning echoed through the air and the smell of smoke seemed ever present.

It was hard to believe that minutes before, it had been an ordinary Saturday.

Peter walked towards the door.

"Peter!" El gasped with tears pooling in her eyes. And Peter fell, a dart sticking out of his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Neal said to her. He was holding a gun but El knew enough to tell that it was a tranquilising gun, having shot the dart that fell her husband. "But we need to get out of New York."

"Why?" she asked, wondering if it was safer to stay here rather than try navigating the world outside.

"Please, just trust me," Neal insisted. He didn't want to tell her this. There was a chance that, like Peter, she would insist on saving everyone. He didn't want to be the one to tell her that it was impossible. "Is your car filled up?"

"We can't drive in this," she insisted after nodding.

"We have to," Neal responded in a serious tone. He looked at her, his blue eyes piercing. "You saw the red that flickered over the television, right?" He didn't wait for her answer. "It's a virus. The Omen virus."

"I thought that was just a hoax." Christmas last year, the Omen virus appeared and sent the world into a panic. Although it was determined to be the act of a terrorist, a lot of people subscribed to the theory that it was all a hoax and that the virus didn't do anything besides look scary.

"It wasn't," Neal responded, "it was real and supposed to be neutralised. I don't know why it's activated but, we need to act now. There'll be time for determining what happened later, when we're safe. Help me carry Peter."

Neal was right. Now wasn't the time to worry about why this was happening; now was the time for acting and making sure her loved ones stayed safe. She helped Neal drag Peter to the car and buckle him in the back seat.

"We can carry two more," Neal mused as he jumped into the driver's seat. "Maybe even three or four."

"Satchmo!" El realised, jumping out of the car to grab the dog. She also grabbed some of his food and some food for them.

* * *

Neal drove like a racer at times and, at others, a stunt driver. He manoeuvred his way through debris, other cars, people and animals, without batting an eye and without much damage. The side door got scratched when he pushed between the gap between a car and a street light, but El didn't care about that. As long as the car kept going and they didn't crash.

She was surprised when they stopped to pick up Jones.

"Mozzie's in charge of getting Diana, June and her granddaughters," Neal explained as Jones jumped in.

"Why the hurry, Neal?" Jones joked humorously as Neal violently pulled out into traffic.

"We still need to pick up Sara," Neal responded without humour.

Jones and El both noticed that he didn't answer the question properly. He didn't tell them why he wanted to get out of New York quickly and that scared them.

They picked up Sara outside her work.

"Thanks for remembering," Neal said. Sara explained to the rest of them that Neal had told her what to do if something like this ever happened.

"He had played it off like something Mozzie told him," she said, "a 'what if' game."

"The little guy, I should have known," Jones muttered. Although he was trying to sound gruff, he actually sounded quite impressed.

El wasn't so sure that it was Mozzie. It her, it seemed that Neal was the one who prepared for this. Why else would he be carrying a tranquilising gun?

As soon as they were outside of New York, Neal sped up. Sara gave a frightened squeak as the car zoomed along the highway.

"Neal! You're going kind of fast!" she pointed out.

"I don't think anyone's going to arrest me today," Neal responded weaving through the traffic. It seemed that there were a lot of people thinking like Neal.

"What's the hurry?" Jones asked again, still jokingly, even though he really wanted to know.

"You're better off not knowing," Neal said, "not until we get away."

They all looked at him like they didn't believe him. As she was sitting in the passenger side seat and next to him, El could see the serious expression on his face.

"It's better that you don't know," Neal said quietly, although in the silent car, they all heard him loud and clear, "that way, when you find out, you can place the blame on me and not yourselves."

And that response made them all curious, although they knew that he wouldn't tell them. El sat back and tried not to look out the window and the burning New York skyline. Jones asked Sara about her latest client, as if it was an ordinary day; except, on an ordinary day, he wouldn't ask because she went to Neal or Peter with this stuff and they relayed it to him.

* * *

Around three hours of fast-paced driving later, Neal pulled up at a little cottage somewhere outside of Hagerstown, MD. It was off the road and hidden behind trees and they hadn't even realised that the dirt he had turned onto was really a road.

Peter had woken earlier and sat in stony silence as El commented that it 'looked nice'.

Neal pulled the car over and turned it off just outside of the cottage.

"I certainly didn't expect this," Sara commented. It was a nice place, picturesque. It was made from wood and had a porch out the front which also ran around the side.

They all got out and Neal seemed to count them off, one by one, in his head. He mused on something for a moment before speaking.

"This is a safe house that was developed in the event of worldwide disaster," he explained, "it doesn't use electricity and there's a well out the back. Any water you draw must be boiled on a fire before use, just to be safe. When you get inside, there are two bedrooms, one bathroom and a combined lounge/kitchen/dining. Jones, you can have the couch. Peter and El can have one of the bedrooms and Sara can sleep on one of the air mattresses. I'd like to keep the other room for June and her granddaughters."

"Where will you sleep?" Sara asked.

"There's a hammock," he said nonchalantly and with a shrug. "Now, we're going to have to change our clothes."

"Wait, what?" Peter questioned in an angry tone. He was still angry that Neal knocked him out and, technically, kidnapped him.

"Why, Peter, I didn't know you were the modest type," Neal joked.

"What's this about?" Jones asked before Peter could explode. "You were in a hurry to get here and now you're issuing orders? How about some answers first?"

A shadow crossed Neal's face. He frowned and his eyes dropped to their feet.

"Go inside," he said softly, "I'll put out clothes for everyone. Get changed. Underwear too. Then, I'll explain."

They all shared a glance. Finally, Sara shrugged and walked up the wooden steps and into the cottage. El followed her. With one last glance towards Neal, Peter moved after his wife.

Jones grabbed Neal's arm.

"Are you really going to explain?" he questioned in a quiet but hard tone.

"Power cut out," Neal whispered to him, staring right into Jones' eyes with his dark, blue orbs, "do you know what happens to nuclear power plants when they lose power?"

Jones had an idea. Fear coiled in his gut and he felt his face go pale and cold.

"We're outside the contamination zone," Neal was quick to point out, "and there are bottles of water in the safe house and the walls are lined with lead. We should be safe."

"Neal, there are millions of people in New York and you left them all to die?" he questioned in horror. He had never thought Neal would do something like that.

"I did," he responded, unflinchingly, "I made a promise to survive."

"Neal..." Jones' voice trailed off as he realised he didn't know what to say. On one hand, Neal had saved them but, on the other, he hadn't even tried to save anyone else and had left an entire city to burn.

Neal didn't look at him as he walked into the cottage.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

* * *

They had all changed when another car pulled up. Satchmo came bounding out of the bedroom and pounded up to the door with his tail wagging and ready to greet the newcomers.

To everyone's surprise, Neal pulled a gun out as he went to the door.

"Mozzie?" he questioned, standing flat against the wall with his hand on the knob. Peter thought that the pose looked familiar and strange at the same time.

"That I can neither confirm nor deny," Mozzie's familiar voice responded from the other side, "is this the Pineapple house?"

Neal sighed with relief and opened the door.

"Is that a gun?" Mozzie questioned in surprise. Neal held it up.

"Tranq," he explained, shooting the side wall with a dart.

"You shouldn't waste darts like that," June scolded in a motherly tone as she walked in, pushing Samantha before her with Cindy walking in behind, Bugsy in her arms.

"What's going on, Caffrey?" Diana questioned as she walked in. She surveyed the group of people in the cottage. "Boss?"

Peter shrugged as he didn't know what was going on, while Jones breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the sight of his partner.

"The bedroom's there," Neal explained to Mozzie's group, "there are clothes laid out on the bed for all of you, sorry Cindy, we don't have any dresses, just shirts and pants. Go change."

"Everything?" Mozzie questioned in a suspicious tone.

"Everything," Neal responded. There were women's undergarments of various sizes, thankfully, they were extra prepared.

Mozzie looked around at everyone who were wearing similar clothes, white or black tee-shirts and jeans or, in Neal's case, black slacks. He tapped the wall in a suspicious manner.

"Lined with lead?" he guessed, giving Neal a suspicious glance. "Neal, why is this place fitted for nuclear fallout?"

"Because it's Pineapple," Neal responded in a nonchalant way with a glance at Jones, who remained silent. And that's all he said until Mozzie's group had changed.

There were eight chairs around a dining table which were just enough, considering Neal stood and June's granddaughters took the couch.

Neal looked over the faces of the people he had grown close to; Mozzie, Peter, June, June's granddaughters, El, Diana and Jones, and felt like crying. Everything had gone to hell, through no fault of theirs and their lives would never be the same.

Neal had an idea of what went wrong and he couldn't help but shoulder some of the blame.

"Alright," he said, "I'll explain. What you know is, that last Christmas, a virus known as the Omen was released into the world. The virus was designed to erase huge amounts of data and, once released, managed to bury itself in every computer system and program in the world. It was thought to have been stopped but, it appears that the virus has been activated."

"Neal, get to the radiation part," Jones said reasonably.

"Without computers and electronics, the power plants can't run. There's no power and most of the wires set up to relay communications are probably fried. And without power, nuclear power plants everywhere are going into meltdown and sending out radiation over already panicked cities. That's why we needed to get out fast and why I asked you to change as a precaution against the radiation."

There was silence and gazes shared across the semi-circle of chairs. Neal stood tall and held his conman expression of neutrality. He would feel guilt for the lives lost during the chaos and radiation around New York and it would feature in his nightmares for a long time but, he wouldn't change his decision. Logically, he knew that he couldn't save everyone. He could only die trying and he had promised not to die.

"We won't be here forever," he continued before anyone could ask a question, "only long enough to fill the cars and to rest. We have a busy time ahead of us."

"What?" Mozzie questioned in a surprised tone.

"There's a place I know," Neal explained, "a sort of township created for this kind of situation."

"'This kind of situation'?" Peter questioned sarcastically.

"A situation in which modern civilisation has or is going to collapse," Neal explained patiently, "it's also a meeting place of sorts. And if the people we're meeting get there, then they're our best chance of beating this." If 'beating it' was at all possible. The problem with opening Pandora's Box is that the evils can't be put back in. Hope might be at the bottom but, it didn't dispel the evils or protect those who were innocent.

Mozzie gave an impressed whistle.

"You're really prepared for this," he praised, "there's even bottles of water under the kitchen sink."

Prepared. Neal sighed at the thought. They were certainly prepared, to a level he knew would change their perceptions of him.

"What is it?" Peter said as, no matter how mad he was at Neal, he knew the nuances of Neal's behaviour.

"Later," Neal said. He didn't want to give anyone here a reason to run off into the night.

* * *

Neal pulled out a sketchbook and pencil he stored here and sat on the outside porch and drew. He drew images of the people inside and tried not to focus on the future. However, his traitorous brain kept bringing up the 'worst case scenario' plans for the future.

June came out and sat quietly next to him.

"There's quite the discussion going on in there," she said, "whether you've done the right thing and what we're supposed to do next."

Neal just made a noise of agreement. He had expected as much. June held out something and placed it on the edge of his sketchbook.

A photo. Of a young boy with dark hair and smiling at the camera with another arm slung over his shoulder. The picture was torn down the middle, so the other person wasn't there, but it was framed.

"Mozzie found this," June explained, "he wanted to hide it before Peter found it."

"Ah." Neal couldn't think of anything to say. He just picked the picture up and stared at it.

The picture was supposed to remind him of what was important and of his promise to survive. He couldn't help but wonder if it would be worth it. If he became the only one left, what would it matter?

"You shouldn't think about it so hard," June sighed, "save the 'what ifs' and enjoy the moment."

As if to prove her point, a bird flew down and pecked at the ground. Neal smiled as he watched it.

"Byron planned for something like this," June said, "during much... simpler times. I believe his safe points are still operating."

And the moment was broken as Neal realised that June wasn't going to travel with them.

"I thank you, and Mozzie, for helping us get out, Neal," she continued, "but, I made a promise a long time ago that I plan to keep. I suspect you have done the same."

Neal nodded and blinked away growing tears. He couldn't cry as she was just doing the same thing he was.

"Will you be taking Samantha and Cindy with you?" he asked, pretending that this was just business.

"I will," June responded, "if you're okay with that."

"I'm fine," he said, smiling. She was alive and she had a plan; June certainly didn't need him. "I can share some of our resources with you before you leave."

"Thank you Neal but, I don't plan to use tranqs," she informed him, her eyes hard.

Neal shook his head. Resources would become something to fight, even kill, over in the future. He didn't want to face that just yet, he wanted to pretend that this was still a kind world.

"I meant fuel but," Neal glanced through the window where everyone else was still talking. "There's more than just tranqs in Pineapple."

June gave him a strange, appraising look. He didn't know what it meant and she was smiling again moments later.

"Let's go inside," she said kindly, "and enjoy the moment."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes**: A 'ute' is like a 'pickup truck' (according to Wikipedia).

* * *

**Part 3**

* * *

Neal flipped up the rug lying in front of the couch, after moving the coffee table off it. June's granddaughters were putting away the air mattresses which Diana and Sara had slept on. The rest of them were standing around and watching Neal.

"A trap door," Mozzie announced approvingly, rubbing his hands together.

"Storage," Neal pointed out, pulling it open. Inside were containers of fuel, all bunched together under the floorboards. He pulled out three containers. "June."

"Neal, you don't have to," she said as he had already told them to take the car they arrived him, much to Mozzie chagrin.

Mozzie didn't approve of their splitting up.

Neal gave her a look that said not to say no and pulled out the rest of the containers.

"I'm thinking we split the rest of these between the other two cars."

"Two cars?" Jones questioned. Other than June's car, they had El's and that was it.

"There's a car here," Neal said, "as a backup. In case the car we travelled in got damaged or there were more people than expected." He saw the expression flash on everyone's face, except Mozzie's, that said they thought he was crazy-prepared.

He wondered if they would still think that if they knew how often the country, sometimes even the world, came close to ending, in so many different ways, over the past few years.

"Neal, where did you get the money for all this?" Peter asked.

"Work," Neal responded, "nothing illegal though." He didn't look like he believed him. "The illegal stuff is behind the bookcase."

A flash of surprise and he couldn't help the smirk that came to his face, despite his nerves. Or because of them. He kept his conman smile on, knowing that he would need to be on the top of his game in order to not destroy the fragile trust they had in him.

The bookcase, which everyone mostly ignored, was on the back wall and near the dining room table. Neal moved the table and stacked the chairs on it before sliding the bookcase along. He ignored the growing protests as books and knick-knacks, which weren't his idea, fell to the ground.

Jones was the first to get a look as he moved around to check what Neal was uncovering. He swore.

"Caffrey," he hissed as he took in what had been hidden there.

Guns of all shapes and sizes, although nothing too big, ammo and a few sharp knives were all stored and displayed in the cavity he revealed.

Peter swore as well.

Diana... Diana squealed. Apparently one of the guns was rare and she had never seen it in person before.

"Well, I guess these don't belong to you," Peter commented at Neal's shocked look when Diana burst forward to claim the gun for herself.

Neal winced. Some of them did. And some belonged to someone else. Neal picked out a slender but curved and sharp knife and sheathed it around his waist and under his shirt.

"Everyone take at least one weapon," he said, "for protection. Those not comfortable with guns, take a knife. Sara, your baton is okay." He spotted the hesitant look on El's face and the way Peter stepped in front of her. "El, using a gun is more than point-and-shoot but, if you're not comfortable with a knife, there's a range of batons hidden in the bedroom. And possibly a taser or two."

"Oh, can I take a look?" Sara questioned, feeling slightly left out. She didn't want a gun or knife as batons were her weapon of choice but, everyone else was getting to choose and she had planned to go shopping to previous day. It was a shopping trip which had been cancelled when everything went to hell.

Neal's expression softened for a moment and she felt her heart clench. His expression had been hard since this started, as if he was trying to distance himself from them. She missed her conman, the man who made her feel close and tried to take her worries away.

He nodded and Sara took El over to look at the batons. Like the guns and knives, they were hidden behind a bookshelf.

June grabbed a gun as well as a gun each for her granddaughters. They didn't know how to use guns but June promised Neal that she would teach them. Cindy picked up a knife, hesitantly hefting it to check its weight.

Neal gave Samantha a whistle. She was young and he didn't want to see a weapon in her hands just yet. She would get a weapon once June taught her how to fire a gun and he had a feeling that day wouldn't be too far off.

It was late in the morning when June bundled her granddaughters into the car, gave Neal a goodbye kiss on the cheek, hugged Mozzie and bid farewell to everyone else. Neal's eyes stung and it felt like someone punched him in the nose but, he couldn't cry. El sniffled and rest her head on Peter's chest. Sara's lip trembled but she too didn't cry.

"_'Farewell is like the end, but in my heart is the memory and there you will always be'_," Mozzie quoted.

"What?" Jones questioned.

"Walt Disney," Neal informed him, smiling at the thought that some things hadn't changed.

* * *

They had an easy drive. It seemed that there weren't as many people travelling today as there had been the previous day. Sara commented about how it had only been a day and how she had a hard time believing that anything had changed. She said that while gazing off at the still soldering shell of an airplane in the distance.

Neal was quiet. He drove and only responded when someone spoke to him. Mostly it was one-or-two word responses, a far cry from the talkative conman they knew. He didn't talk about where they were going.

Peter didn't know what to make of this. He thought he knew Neal Caffrey but this was outside his knowledge. He didn't know what to say and he didn't even know how to feel. He worried about his family and friends across the country. He worried about how the police and other federal agents were holding up.

He felt like a deserter, running off with a felon even if he hadn't a choice. And there was another thing, how had Neal known to carry a tranq gun? He couldn't had it on him every day because someone was certain to notice.

"What the?" Neal questioned as they came up to the state border. There were a bunch of cars, trucks and people in military uniforms.

"Neal?" El questioned, leaning forward from the back seat. "Is something wrong?"

"Possibly," Neal said, flicking the indicator on and pulling the car over. Behind him, in a white, four-door ute, Mozzie also pulled to the side.

"What's going on?" Jones asked as he jumped out of the passenger side of the ute. Diana climbed out as well, muttering thanks and something about 'not wanting to hear another theory about how the government's behind this'.

"There's a blockade up ahead," Neal pointed out, shoving a finger at it.

"That's good, right?" Sara questioned, "they're there to help."

"Hardly," Mozzie scoffed, "they're probably there to keep the masses from freedom and travel."

Sara countered back about how paranoid he was being and Mozzie shot back about how paranoid she needed to be in this new world.

"I'm going to go talk to them," Neal commented, "the rest of you, stay in the cars in case you need to make a quick escape."

"I'm going with you," Peter said before he could think of reasons not to. He wasn't about to let Neal walk up to a group of armed men without someone to watch his back. "No arguments," he added, seeing the surprise and denial on Neal's face.

"Fine," Neal responded, turning to face the blockade. Peter noticed that he wasn't smiling the way he normally did for a con. "But, don't comment on anything you see or hear."

Peter gave his wife an exasperated look, hoping for some pity but she gave him a hug instead.

"They look dangerous," she commented in a sad voice.

"Relax," he told her, "it'll be fine."

"Maybe you should take the dog," Mozzie suggested, reaching up to the back of the ute to give Satchmo a pat. "'Man's best friend' and all that. He could protect you."

That managed to cox a giggle out of El and Peter felt like it had been a long time since he heard her laugh.

"But, he makes a terrible guard dog," Peter muttered, moving to follow Neal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes: **A 'ute' is a 'pickup truck' (according to Wikipedia).

* * *

**Part 4**

* * *

Neal changed his stance so he looked like one of them as he moved up to the blockade. He raised his hands in a 'no weapons' position and prayed that it was enough and that they wouldn't shoot him before he had a chance to talk.

"Halt!" It only took that one order for most of the guns in the area to be pointed at them. Neal heard Peter swear from behind him. Neal just rolled his eyes.

"Think you can tell me what you're doing here?" Neal demanded to know. Peter thought this was a silly move, almost like taunting the men with guns.

"Why do you want to know?" the one closest to them asked, lowing his gun a little bit to look at them.

"We were looking to cross the state border," Neal said, "just wondering if it's still possible."

"It's not," the man said bluntly, "it's far too dangerous for people to be travelling right now."

"Why?" Neal questioned, tilting his head a little and putting a hint of naiveté into his voice.

The man gave an annoyed grunt.

"We're trying to get communications and power reconnected," he explained, "and if you're done asking questions, please leave." Neal caught a few whispers from the men around them and decided to cut their loses. They could find another way past.

"Thank you, we'll do that," Neal said, turning around and placing a hand on Peter's back to quickly walk him back to the cars.

"Neal?" Peter questioned, although Neal didn't hear it. What he did hear was a whisper that sounded like, 'Larkin', although he couldn't be sure.

"Run," he said, moving from powerwalk into a sprint with Peter just in front of him. Shots sounded behind them and Neal cursed, ducking to avoid being hit. "Drive!" he called back to the cars. If any of these men caught them, his friends would be subjected to torture.

Thankfully, Mozzie was good. He kicked the ute into gear and was off down the road.

"Damn it, El," Peter groaned when Elizabeth just opened the doors to the car for them. Neal shoved Peter towards the back and jumped into the driver's seat, starting the car and getting it moving before the doors were even shut.

Neal drove quickly and overtook Mozzie so he could guide him towards a hiding place he spotted on the way here. They turned down onto a hidden track and didn't pull over for a good few miles.

"Neal!" Mozzie cried once they pulled over to reconvene and plan. "What did you say to them?" He was tired and frazzled, having gone around and counted the number of bullet holes in the ute. They were lucky and none of them had hit the fuel tank or the tires.

"Sorry," Neal said, his heart still racing.

"Maybe they thought you were a felon," Peter snarked. Mozzie glared at him.

"Then why shoot at us?" Diana questioned. Jones nodded in agreement.

"Something about that didn't seem right," he said, "why did they say they were there?"

"They said they were trying to get communications and power fixed," Neal said, with a frown. "But that's not true."

"What makes you say that?" Sara questioned, a hint of challenge in her tone.

"Well, they did shoot at us when we appeared to be following their orders," Neal pointed out, "but they also don't have any of the proper equipment to do so."

"And you happen to know what the proper equipment looks like?" Diana questioned.

"I know how to make it look like you have the proper equipment," Neal pointed out, "and they weren't even making the effort to look right."

"So, what now?" El questioned in a worried tone, the only one really voicing her worry and fear.

"We keep going," Neal said.

"Hold on," Peter countered, "why do we have to do that? We know nothing about what's going on besides what you tell us! Neal, you're a felon and you've used this as an opportunity to escape and you really just expect us to follow you?"

Neal didn't look surprised as he calmly turned to stare at Peter. There was no conman smile on his face and he certainly didn't look impressed.

Peter figured that was appropriate; this was serious business and he wasn't looking to impress Neal Caffrey even if it slightly disturbed him to see the expression on Neal's face.

"What are you saying?" he asked, his voice dull.

"I'm saying that this is crazy. You heard them, they're fixing it! If we go back now, maybe no one will realise that we spent two days driving around the country!"

"They are lying, Peter!" Neal responded in a strong manner, "and they shot at us! Are you really thinking of going back to them?"

"I'm think of going back to New York!" Peter responded, "there's no reason to travel to wherever just because the power went out!"

"Just the power?" Neal questioned in a shocked tone, "Peter, everything's out!"

"And they're fixing it!"

"No, they are not!" Neal stepped right up into Peter's space. "If the OMEN virus could be fixed, then this wouldn't have happened. Face it, Peter, this is it. The world as we knew it is gone."

"Neal, you are a liar and a con and what you're saying can't be true. I'm taking my wife and going back to New York! And when I get there, I'm putting declaring you an escaped felon."

"Good luck with that!" Neal responded turning away from Peter and stalking away.

The rest of the group shared glances and then split. The only person who walked towards Neal was Mozzie.

* * *

Diana glanced back at Neal's and Mozzie's retreating backs.

"I think he's leaving us the ute," she pointed out, noticing how they climbed into El's car. It didn't move though and she wondered if he was hoping they would change their minds.

"You sure you don't want any of us to go with them?" Jones asked, "it might be good to have someone with him so we know where he is."

"No," Peter responded in a spiteful tone. He was still riding the rage from the fight. "If he wants to run, let him run, we'll catch him eventually."

"I feel a little sorry for him," El commented to Peter, "I mean, he did his best to protect us."

"Or to protect himself," Peter responded. El glanced at Sara, who shrugged. Sara understood Peter's line of thinking more than Neal's and was just as frustrated.

Sara, Diana and Jones all sat in the back seats of the ute while Peter and El took the front seats. Peter was driving. He didn't drive for long, only a few hours, before they stopped in the first town which appeared to have life.

Most of the towns they past seemed almost like ghost towns where no one was going outside. This town had children running in the streets and was the first they encountered which had an open motel. The motel had a sign out the front, stating they were open and that visitors were to pay in fuel. It had been scrawled onto a large piece of cardboard and hung with string around a tree so that it was visible from the road.

"Perfect," Peter commented as he pulled in.

"Good thing Neal left those cans of fuel in the back," Jones commented.

"Why pay with fuel?" Sara questioned the man inside.

"Cash isn't going to do me any good," he explained in a pretentious way. He tugged at the register. "Stupid thing doesn't work properly without power and, if you hadn't noticed, money isn't going to do me any good. What I need right now is fuel. My cousin's hooking up his old generator here tomorrow and fuel is what I need to power it."

Sara didn't ask any more questions and Peter negotiated a deal with the man for three rooms.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes: **Warning for character death.

**Part 5**

* * *

Peter awoke, disorientated and confused and automatically reaching for his gun. It took him a few moments to register what had woken him up.

Satchmo was growling. He let out a fierce growl moments before a gun went off. Someone cursed and Satchmo let out a pain-filled yelp. Then the gun fired again and Satchmo was silenced.

Peter was up by then and charging at the shadow in the room as El dashed low to Satchmo's side. She made a whimpering noise that Peter was somehow able to hear while fighting off the intruder; Satchmo was in bad shape. It distracted Peter long enough for the intruder to knock him back.

Even though he was sore, the distance allowed Peter to identify their attacker. It wasn't hard to recognise the tall and bony frame of the man they had booked the rooms from.

"We paid for the rooms!" he yelled out, hoping but knowing that this wouldn't make him stop.

"I saw how much fuel you had," the man responded, "killing you and taking it is a better option than waiting to see if anyone's able to get through the military barriers."

"That's murder!" El pointed out, in case they hadn't understood what he was up to. Maybe she was hoping it was a joke.

"Do you really think anyone's going to care?" the man asked. He had found his gun from where he had dropped it when Satchmo had attacked and picked it up. "You're travellers, unknown in these parts. Even if your death is discovered, I can pay the police fuel to get them to look the other way." A chill went down El's back and rage sparked in Peter. They both hoped that Diana and Jones were okay.

Peter reached for his gun, realising that it had been knocked out his hands when he fought the man. He hadn't shot him because he hadn't wanted to kill him and now, they might pay for that with their lives.

The door was loudly kicked opened, making Peter and El flinch, and a gun went off. The man fell, a tranq dart sticking out of his neck.

"Peter! Elizabeth!" Neal called out as he stepped into the room. A relieved look appeared on his face when he spotted Peter down by the bed but, then he spotted El and the growing amount of blood around her.

His eyes grew large as he realised where the blood was coming from.

"Satch!" He dropped down at the dog's side and instantly realised that it was too late.

He had been too late. Tears pooled in his eyes and his hands clenched into fists.

"I know where the nearest doctor able to quietly fix up a human is, I know two different hiding places we can get to in under an hour but I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE NEAREST VET IS!" He hadn't intended to say this, just think it, but he hadn't been able to hold it in. His fist pounded the ground as a few tears broke loose. It didn't matter that a vet probably wouldn't be able to save Satchmo, Neal still felt completely useless.

El wrapped her arms around him, tears flowing down her cheeks. It didn't help that Satchmo gave a weak whine, as if trying to cheer them up as well. Peter couldn't cry. Not while blaming himself. If he hadn't left Neal, and the question of why Neal was here could wait, then they wouldn't be here and Satchmo would still be happy and carefree. If instead of charging him, he had shot the man, the man wouldn't have been able to fire the shot that hit Satchmo.

Peter also saw how Neal was blaming himself and his heart went out to the younger man. He no longer thought that this was a scam so Neal could run. Not now, when they had met someone willing to kill over a few containers of fuel.

"Boss!" Jones called out, appearing in the doorway with his gun clenched in his hands and Diana right behind him. "What happened?"

Peter shook his head, silently indicating that he would explain later.

"We need to go," he realised. If they didn't get out of here before the man woke up, then they would be in danger again. He wanted to shoot the man but, couldn't bring himself to kill an unconscious person.

He couldn't bring himself to look at Satchmo's nameless murder either.

"Neal," Peter said, placing a tender hand on his friend's shoulder. When Neal didn't respond, he tried again. "Neal, we need to leave."

Neal stumbled to his feet, El moving up alongside him as they supported each other.

"Right," he said, appearing to collect himself. He turned to Peter. "Do you mind following me? I know a place we can lay low."

"Lead on," El said before Peter could say anything. She gave Peter a look that said he better not say anything. Peter nodded in agreement and told them to go ahead. He still had something to do. He knew that Satchmo wouldn't last much longer but, he didn't want him to suffer unnecessarily.

Peter took his gun and fired a single shot. His aim was better than the man's and Satchmo's suffering was cut short.

He stepped out have expected everyone to have gotten ready to leave without him but, he found Neal leaning against the wall.

"I had Jones and Diana take El to the car," he explained, "and Mozzie's raiding the guy's hoard for things of worth." Peter nodded and Neal placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "If it helps, you aren't the only ones he tried it on. Mozzie and I arrived moments after he left another room. We checked inside and found a dead body, the only other guest besides yourselves. The poor guy was probably travelling around on the motorbike in the parking lot and must have been caught away from home when OMEN hit."

Peter shook his head at the foolishness and wastefulness of it all. There were no lights other than the brightness of the moon and stars and he found himself thinking that it shouldn't be like this.

* * *

Neal didn't like violence and revenge but he couldn't bring himself to stop Mozzie from torching the motel where Satchmo died a valiant death.

Mozzie drove the ute with Jones, Diana and Sara in it. Neal suspected they were talking about recent events and what to do next. Neal took the car with Peter and El seated in the back. They were silent, none of them up to talking, as Neal drove down dark streets. The lack of light made driving dangerous and Neal had to rely on his memory and the car's headlights.

Finally, in the darkest part of the morning, Neal pulled into a driveway which wound around behind a small cottage. Neal hoped he was still welcome here, even after a decade.

They knocked on the back door, where a small candle light was shining.

"Geez, who is it at this hour?" a grumpy female voice complained as the door opened. Neal flashed the best smile he could, which was weak and trembling, as her light blue eyes spotted him. "Neal?"

He nodded.

"What, oh goodness, what happened to you?" she gasped, her manner changing in an instant. She opened the door and invited the party inside.

"I'll explain later," he said, "right now, my friends and I require sanctuary for a few hours."

"Take all the time you need," she said. As he past she grabbed his arm. "Is this blood?" she questioned, holding her candle close.

Neal glanced down his arm where there were bloody handprints decorating it. He suppressed a shudder.

"It's not mine," he said, looking over at El. In the candlelight, he could just see the blood speckling her arms and hands.

"Oh dear. Both of you should go wash up. There are buckets in the bath, filled with water from my well. Use one each. And only one, Neal." She placed her hands on his back and gave him a soft shove in the direction of her bathroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

* * *

Neal washed up and then curled up in one of the wire-frame bunk beds to sleep. Mozzie stopped anyone from waking him stating that Neal had spent the night awake. Everyone agreed and besides, it was far too early for any of them to be up. They all slept.

The woman introduced herself as Melina and had her fireplace set up in the morning where eggs were baking.

"Good morning," she greeted as Diana and Jones woke up. Jones had been sleeping on her couches, leaving the rooms to Mozzie, Diana, Peter and El and Neal and Sara. Sara was up soon after, storming out of the room and into the bathroom to use one of the water buckets. She then scolded Mozzie on his morning yoga.

"It's important for my chi!" Mozzie countered, "I need to start my day balanced."

"That last thing I need is to see a Mozzie-pretzel when I first open my eyes!" she countered.

Jones decided to ignore them.

"So," he asked Melina, "how do you know Neal?"

"I dated Bryce," she responded as if the connection to Neal had been obvious.

"Bryce?" Jones questioned.

"Who's Bryce?" Sara asked, finishing her argument with Mozzie to intrude on their talk.

Melina blinked and twirled a strand of her blond hair between her fingers.

"You don't know Bryce?" she questioned in surprise. Except for Mozzie, they all shook their heads. Mozzie thought about for a moment before shaking his head as well; he couldn't recall Neal ever mentioning the name. "I thought you were going to meet him?"

They all looked at each other and shrugged. None of them had thought to ask Neal who they would be meeting.

"We're supposed to be," Neal announced, appearing in the doorway. He looked like he had been awake for a while even though he had only just woke up. "If he can make it."

"Don't doubt him," Melina said with a disappointed frown. "Bryce'll be there. He's Bryce."

The rest of the room wondered what this was supposed to mean as Neal nodded in agreement.

"I guess I should explain," he said, motioning for them to sit down. "Melina, if you don't mind?"

"'Get out of your way'?" she quoted with a smile and a shrug. "Sure."

Neal pouted and glared at her. That was something Bryce would say and the reason he didn't visit her often.

"I wasn't going to put it like that," Neal responded. She just nodded as if he was a child who didn't know better and left. Neal glared at the exit once she was gone.

"Neal?" Jones questioned, calling him back to his conversation with them.

"Okay," Neal said, "I've decided to draw a map to where we're going and Mozzie is going to memorise it for you."

"Neal, I don't have the artistic talent to recreate a map," Mozzie pointed out.

"There are country and state maps in the cars you can use." He paused and wondered if it was a smart idea to tell them about Bryce and Bryce's occupation. Add in the fact that the people they were meeting were important CIA agents and it was probably enough to send them running for the hills. He wasn't blind and he knew that FBI agents and CIA agents didn't get along and Mozzie had an intense distrust for anything 'Fed'.

He decided to keep it a secret. But, maybe he could tell them about Bryce.

"As for Bryce, he's one of the people we will be meeting," he hoped, "and he's-" Neal stopped and bit the inside of his lip as he flashed back to seeing Satchmo lying on the ground as the blood drained out of him. Had Bryce looked like that the times he had almost died? Neal felt ashamed that he didn't even know. His heart hurt for the lovable golden dog, the one who didn't judge him and who loved him for just being him. Satchmo was never mad when Neal messed up. Instead, Satchmo was the one who lay his head in Neal's lap and tried to cheer him up as Peter scolded him.

He was struck with the very thought he had been trying to avoid, what if it had been Peter? Or El? Or Sara? What if it happened to Bryce? What if it happened to Mozzie?

"Neal?" Mozzie questioned in a worried tone. The ex-conman zoned out in the middle of talking, something he rarely did.

Neal apologised and shook his head to scatter the thoughts. It would do him no good to imagine made-up scenarios he wouldn't be able to help. He just needed to get to the meeting place. If Bryce was okay, he would also be there.

"Bryce is my brother," Neal explained. There were numerous exclamations of surprise, Mozzie's, 'why did you never tell me about this?', being the loudest.

The door to the bedrooms opened a moment later and a grumpy Peter walked out.

"What's going on?" he demanded to know.

* * *

Peter accepted the news that Neal had a brother the same way he accepted any new information about Neal; with interest but an intention to confirm such information at a later date. Even though Neal didn't lie, he would let people draw incorrect conclusions and there were a few different uses of the word 'brother'; he could mean an associate or a religious brother or maybe even a 'blood brother'. He could never assume anything with Neal.

At least Neal insisted that Bryce wasn't a criminal associate of his and since Mozzie hadn't met the guy, it was probably true. So Peter didn't worry about it too much. After being shot at and almost murdered during the night, criminals that Neal might associate with were at the bottom of his worry list. At the top: what was he going to do with his gun?

He hated the thing. There were stains of blood on it, he was left wondering just how that had happened, and he couldn't help thinking about Satchmo's last moments whenever he looked at it.

It had to be done, he kept telling himself. Satchmo wasn't going to survive and any more pain would have been selfish on Peter's part.

"Neal's gone to the garage," El pointed out when she noticed the way Peter was pacing and glaring at his gun. He couldn't just throw it away because he needed a weapon.

Peter wondered if talking to Neal would help. If they ended up in another fight, he didn't think it would end well.

However, El hadn't been mentioning it, she had been ordering it. Peter had barely talked to Neal since this had all started and the few times he had, it had been building up to a fight.

He was surprised to find Neal wearing gloves and pummelling a punching bag.

Punch-punch-punch, punch, punch. Neal hit and hit without pause.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

* * *

It wasn't how Neal usually de-stressed or how he normally exercised. It was more a Bryce thing to do, punching away at a punching bag. But, after the past few days, he was a bundle of energy and nerves and needed an outlet. It was Melina who suggested he use her punching bag and he really only agreed because it would get him away from everyone else for a while. He was worried that they would hate him for not getting there soon enough and for not being able to save Satchmo.

He paused and took a few deep breaths, his eyes scanning the empty garage. Or not-so empty garage, he realised as his eyes landed on Peter Burke.

"Peter!" he cried in surprise, his voice breathless from the exercise. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk," Peter responded in a nervous way, "is that okay?"

"Huh?" Neal questioned, thinking that it was strange to ask. "Yeah, sure, take a seat." He motioned towards the deck chairs which had been gathering dust.

"So," Peter started, "you knew that someone would try to kill us?"

Neal winced. Of course Peter would start with the big questions.

"I didn't know," he responded, "but it was highly likely. You need to understand that some people are going to do whatever they want because they think they can get away with it. And let's be honest, they kind of can." He saw Peter was about to respond in anger and held up his hand. "Peter. Tell me just how many of the crimes we investigated in the past had people doing it because they could, and believed they could get away with it? And for those that weren't, how many were people just trying to survive, turning to crime because they had lost something or were about to lose something and were willing to do anything to hold onto it?"

He could see Peter think about it and the realisation dawn on his face.

"Well, the whole world is like that right now. People who believe they can get away with things they couldn't have a few days ago when the authorities were connected with their computerised records, people who are looking to hold onto what they have; be it electricity or their cars, and people who have lost everything and have nothing to lose. If you think of it like that, it's not really a surprise that you ran into someone willing to kill. However, I really expected the armed militia to find you first."

"What?"

"I checked with Melina. Apparently, they've been asking around the towns about us."

"And she knows this because?"

"She has a good information network, one which is only hindered by the loss of modern living, not ruined." He paused and then added, "she's a CIA asset who runs a safe house, information is her life trade."

* * *

Peter's face showed confusion but his mind was strong and sorting through all the information Neal had given him. Melina worked with the CIA and there was some kind of militia after them.

"What does Melina know about the current state of the FBI?" he asked. Neal hesitated to respond.

"She doesn't know but, if she had to assume, they've been usurped."

"Usurped?"

"The militia has taken over most of these areas. They've dismissed the police and shot those who refused to leave. I really don't think there's any power for anyone not claiming to be part of them."

"That's not right," Peter said. There was no justice in something like that, only power and control. "We need to stop them."

Neal back-peddled and let the panic show on his face. There was no way he was going to show himself in front of them; he would probably get shot.

"Peter," he paused and considered the best way to put this. "There's no way we can beat a militia with just us. We'd need more assistance and supplies than you or I have access to. And I promised Bryce that I wouldn't die." He thought that maybe he should add the last bit as he had a feeling that Peter might agree with Bryce on this point. "And that I wouldn't do anything stupid. Stupid would be going after an armed militia with a single weapon."

Peter had to concede; Neal was right. Facing an armed militia was a stupid idea. But he couldn't just let them get away with what they were doing.

"Look, we can't do anything when it's just us. Maybe once we're set up at the meeting place with Bryce, we might be able to do something."

"I don't like it," Peter said, "can't Melina help us? You said she runs this as a CIA safe house... and how do you know that anyway?"

"I know because that's how she was introduced to me," Neal explained, "please don't tell anyone else but, Bryce is CIA."

"CIA?" Peter questioned in disbelief, "you know a CIA agent?"

"He's my brother," Neal said as if it was obvious, "and it was kind of obvious when he joined the CIA too. They might be big on secrecy but it wasn't hard to notice the changes in my brother's behaviour." It had been subtle things, like wiping surfaces clear of fingerprints, checking where the exits were when he entered a room, and using words to manipulate people the way he wanted. They were all things Neal learnt growing up, hustling pool and the other little cons he did and they were things which Bryce frowned on, until he became an agent and learnt that he could use those skills to help people.

For some reason, learning that it was CIA who was Neal's brother made it sound more plausible for them to be blood related.

"What? Of course we are," Neal said when Peter questioned it, "same mother, same father, same DNA for goodness sakes, yes, Bryce is my literal, blood related brother."

"Same DNA?" Peter smirked, thinking he caught Neal out on a mistake. After all, having the same DNA wasn't possible unless you were;

"We're identical twins," Neal responded with his customary Caffrey smirk. "I guess I'm not as unique as you thought."

"I never thought you were unique," Peter bantered, "annoying, maybe."

"Thanks," Neal said dryly.

"But, I really doubt your twin would be an internationally acclaimed forger, thief and whatever else you 'allegedly' are." It was as close to a complement as Peter could get when referencing illegal activities.

Neal seemed to appreciate it as he smiled and tried not to laugh at Peter's attempt.

* * *

Neal reminded Peter not to talk about Bryce's occupation as they left the garage. Neal also suggested to Peter to get a new gun off Melina and give her the one he was currently using.

"So, you made up with the Suit?" Mozzie questioned, seeming to appear from the shadows.

"Yes," Neal responded.

"That's good. Because if you suggested spending another day following them around, I would knock you out with the tranq gun you're always carrying on you and drag you to the meeting place."

"Thanks, Moz," Neal said dryly, wondering if that was a good thing or not. "Who's Melina talking to?" He could hear her voice down the hall as she spoke to someone at the door.

"Some lady from a few blocks away," Mozzie said, "I don't understand why she'd walk all this way just to deliver some defrosted ice-cream."

Neal didn't understand that either, however, he knew that this was more than it seemed. Melina wasn't the kind of person who had people dropping in all the time as it was counter-productive to her job protecting exposed agents. Walking a few blocks with melted ice-cream seemed like a lot of work in dangerous times.

Neal frowned. This wasn't good.

"Get ready to leave," he warned Mozzie, nodding another warning to Peter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**

* * *

It turned out that Neal's suspicion was correct. The militia was still tracking them, even going as far as to search houses were they thought Neal's group was hiding.

Melina wasn't pleased to hear this but she knew that these things happened.

"It's not the first time," she commented as she lay out their options. They could run or they could take a chance and hide.

Neal opted to run.

"Why don't we just hide?" Sara asked curiously.

"There's a lot of us and if any one of us got caught, Melina would pay the price," Peter explained. That Peter agreed with Neal's decision meant that Jones and Diana were okay with it. Mozzie thought it was smart, since he had spent the past few hours checking out the security of Melina's safe house. He had judged it to be adequate but not good enough to hold up against a bunch of 'hounds'.

"Plus, it's better if we get to the meeting place before engaging the militia," Neal said as he explained that the meeting place was outfitted with weapons. He also saw the way Melina breathed a sigh of relief as everyone agreed to leave. This time, they all bundled into the ute with Neal driving and Sara and El next to him while Mozzie, Jones, Diana and Peter all huddled in the back tray. They were exposed but it was also the best vantage point if they needed to shoot. Neal really hoped that there wouldn't be much shooting but, if the militia could locate them within a few blocks of Melina's house than he had a feeling that they might be able to find them even as they flee. Mozzie was holding binoculars and would be the look out while the FBI agents would be armed with guns.

El's face was pale and her jaw clenched as they drove. She didn't like the idea of her husband fighting like this. Really, everyone was more subdued than usual, as if the guns coming out had indicated just how much danger they were in.

Neal wanted to apologise but couldn't. He had found a quiet moment to do so with Peter but, only because Peter knew what Bryce did for a living.

"They think I'm him," Neal had explained, "and that's why they're searching for us. I'm sorry. If you want to take El and leave, you're free to."

"It's not your fault," Peter had responded, "and they saw my face as well. I don't think I'd be safe even away from you. Besides, it's better that we all stay together." He had seen that first hand. Peter was waking up to the situation more and more, giving more orders and having more of an opinion in discussions about what to do next. Neal was grateful for it, because he was tiring of the leadership. He like being the leader; the one who ordered people around and had to make the final decisions, decisions which could decide whether someone lived or died. Neal was the ideas guy; the one who came up with the ideas for the leader to decide on and didn't have to make the hard decisions.

* * *

They managed to cover a lot of ground and there was no sign of the militia so, a few hours after nightfall hit, they pulled up off the track and set up camp. Everyone was still tired from little sleep the previous nights and they couldn't keep driving since Neal and Mozzie were the only ones who knew where to go and they were both running on the least amount of sleep. Although Mozzie was the only one who really commented on how tired he was. Neal pretended that he was fine which was a little off given his slow reaction times while driving, something all the FBI agents picked up on.

"So, you never mentioned your brother," Sara commented as they sat down to eat. It was mostly bread and vegetables, things which wouldn't last long in current times and which Melina grew and made. "What's he like?"

"Annoying," Neal responded with a smile. "He's very work-centred and we don't have much in common." Peter snorted in agreement. A con and an agent as brothers was as different as you could get. Neal looked at him and implored him with his eyes to remember his promise not to tell.

"Like what?" Jones asked. Neal made a face.

"Well, his second language is Klingon," he informed them.

"Klingon?" Peter questioned in confusion.

"It's from Star Trek," Diana informed him, a little surprised that he didn't know. "A made-up language for a made-up race."

"Klingon does qualify as a language though," Neal pointed out as Bryce was always insisting that it did.

Jones snorted in disagreement.

"So, what does he do?" El asked in a kind way. She didn't intend to stop on the landmine which was Bryce's job, she didn't even know it was a landmine.

Fortunately, Neal had thought of a response.

"Well, he went to Stanford," he said, "help me get in a few times too."

"Ah, the creation of your non-existent degrees," Peter said, not really surprised.

Neal glared at him. It was slightly playful.

"I didn't con him, he knew exactly what I was doing," he said.

Peter held up his hands in surrender.

"I didn't mean that."

"Besides, I paid back every favour I owed him," Neal responded.

"I'm sure you did," Peter commented and Neal wondered if that was an agent thing; the certainty and persistence in getting favours paid back. He would have asked but he didn't want anyone else knowing about Bryce's job. And Bryce didn't want anyone knowing about his job, especially Mozzie. He had commented at one time that he was certain Mozzie would sell out his identity almost instantly; the wonders of the Internet, although Neal had to wonder if it would be okay know that the Internet was toast. No matter what Neal said, Bryce hadn't budged.

Peter smirked when he caught the flash of annoyed expression on Neal's face.

"Is there something going on that we need to know about?" Jones asked, pointing between them.

"No," Neal and Peter said in unison.

"Peter's just being mean," Neal added as Peter added;

"Neal's being sulky."

"Get over it, boys," Sara scolded as she reached for another sandwich.

* * *

Neal awoke before Peter even touched him. He jolted up to his feet, surprising the older man.

"They found us?" he questioned, hearing the shuffling of feet in the grass. He recognised the steps as El, who had the least training in packing quietly in the night.

"Yeah," Peter whispered, "we had Jones on look out. Hey, did you know Mozzie put down tire traps?"

"No," Neal said while praising Mozzie in his head. He had given them more time.

"Well, he did. They're on foot, heading this way."

"Go," Neal said, nodding towards the ute. It was white and stood out in the darkness as best it could. Neal's hearing was straining to make up for his lack of vision, being that he could see shadows and some features at best.

Neal followed Peter over to the car. They helped El in and then Peter climbed in after her. Mozzie groaned when he saw they took the front seats and slumped his shoulders as he trudged lightly towards the back of the ute.

"Flashlights," Jones commented, almost appearing from the darkness. He had his gun in his hands and was walking back towards them.

There were beams of light shining in the distance. They were coming closer.

"Jones, get in," Neal said, placing a hand on the ute. In one smooth move, Jones hoisted himself up on into the back of the ute where he went low and set up his shot in cause any of the people hunting them came into range.

"This is crazy," Sara said as she too climbed into the back, Neal hoisting her up and helping her over.

"Welcome to the end of days," Diana commented as she, like Jones, hoisted herself up and set up to shoot anyone who came near.

"Neal, get in," Mozzie hissed over the edge of the ute, having climbed up long before anyone else. "Hurry!"

Neal nodded and turned to enter the front seat when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Something moved in a nearby tree. It was far enough away that they wouldn't notice if someone climbed it but close enough to get off a shot.

"Neal!" Jones called out as he the firing started.

If there was someone there, and he was certain there was, Neal wondered who they would aim for. It couldn't be him, because he was crouched down low and wearing black. There was no guarantee a shot would kill. Unless they were aiming for him the moment he hopped into the driver's seat. In addition, it was dark and any shot would be difficult for a sniper to make.

There wouldn't be much to gain from killing Jones or Diana; the moment one went down, the other would shoot for the sniper. Peter and El were under cover inside the ute and Sara wasn't a threat. Neither was Mozzie.

"Neal!" Diana hissed in her 'you better move or else, Caffrey,' tone of voice.

The sniper in the tree moved the same moment Neal did.

* * *

**Notes: **I know that it's unlikely for someone to be able to see someone aiming at them in a tree but, Neal has good sense combined with good eyes and possible training from Bryce to catch those sorts of things.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 9**

* * *

Mozzie was wearing a tropical shirt which he had found at Melina's. The shirt was bright and colourful and, in the right light, it was also a beacon. Mozzie, who was normally hidden behind the scenes and never aimed to be close to shoot outs, forgot that he should have lost his shirt.

Neal knew that Mozzie probably had a hundred safe houses between here and New York which he would probably be safer in.

Neal knew that Mozzie was only there because of him.

If Mozzie got shot here, Neal would shoulder the blame and guilt.

He flashed back to Satchmo, lying on the ground and covered in blood and knew he couldn't go through that again. Not with Mozzie.

So, when the sniper fired, Neal moved. He forgot his promise to Bryce in that moment and pulled himself up using the side of the ute and covered Mozzie with his body.

"Neal, what?" Mozzie questioned as Neal felt something impact into his body. It was around his waist and bit into the flesh of his back.

The strength went from his arms for a moment as his vision flashed.

"Sniper!" He heard Mozzie call out. Then a few gun shots he were certain disposed of the person who shot him.

"Neal!"

"Peter?" He blinked wearily and wanted to sleep. He could feel the blood leaking out of him and the pain was starting to show itself. He was starting to get light-headed.

"Damn it, Suit! Place pressure on the wound!"

"It's hard from this position! Move, Mozzie! Jones, did you get the guy?"

"I did, Boss." Neal noted with interest that Diana had been the one to shoot the guy. He had no idea why this was so interesting or amusing to him.

"What do we do? Where do we go?" Sara.

"Peter, they're coming!" El.

Neal's vision started to return as more gunshots rang out. His side burned and it hurt to move, it hurt to breathe but he couldn't give up.

"Moz," he said, coughing as it took more effort than he thought and three tries before his voice was audible. "Remember the map?"

"What? We can't just go there, Neal! We need to get you help?"

Neal smiled up at Mozzie's concerned face.

"There'll be help there." Bryce knew people and he was their best shot for help right now.

Mozzie didn't look convinced so Neal turned to Peter, imploring him to understand.

"Mozzie, get in the driver's seat."

"What? Have you gone mad, Suit?"

"Neal showed you where the place is?" Peter questioned rhetorically in a panic. Jones was saying how they wouldn't be able to hold them back much longer. It felt like a long time before Mozzie nodded. "Then you need to drive us there! Neal says we'll find help there and I believe him."

"Move, Mozzie!" Sara added to the end of Mozzie's order. She was kneeling over Neal, placing pressure on his wound.

Mozzie moved. He jumped over the side in one graceful move and didn't even pause before jumping into the driver's seat. Peter stayed in the back, watching over Neal.

"We need to keep him warm," he said to Jones and Diana as the ute jolted away. Mozzie drove just as fast as Neal did but seemed to go smoother. In other circumstances, they would have wondered if he drove like this all the time or whether it had to do with the injured person in the back.

Neal was quiet during the drive. He started with his eyes open as much as he could, squinting and blinking against the pain but, he was slowly fading with the time between opening his eyes growing longer. Peter held his hand close to Neal's nose and mouth so he would feel it if the injured man stopped breathing. Sara held Jones' and his shirts over Neal's body, trying to keep him warm as they drove.

Diana was actually the one who talked the most. She spoke about anything which came to mind, explaining that she was trying to give Neal something to focus on.

"I see a fence!" Mozzie cried out through the open driver's window. It was the best news they could have.

"Come on, Neal," Peter said, "we're almost there." He gave Neal a light slap on the cheek and tried to rouse him.

Neal hissed but didn't move.

* * *

Chuck didn't like this. They had spent ages crammed like sardines in a can to get here. Hours of constant driving with the driver switching out whenever they were tired. And yet, within 48 hours since getting here, there was already an unknown vehicle driving up the unmarked, tiny path towards them.

"Casey, you ready to shoot?" Sarah asked as she followed Chuck towards the gate.

"Yeah. Seems to be a lot of them though, we might be in for a fight," Casey responded, sounding pleased about it.

"Fine," Chuck said, not at all pleased. "As long as they don't pass the fence." His sister, best friend, brother-in-law and niece were all hiding inside the compound.

Casey made an interested grunt.

"What is it?" Chuck asked.

"There's a guy lying down in the back like an open target." A pause and then a groan. "Chuckles, you're not going to like this."

"What?" Chuck demanded to know, walking faster towards the wire gate.

"It looks like Larkin. And I think he's injured."

Chuck cursed and broke into a run. He slid the gate open and ran out onto the road, waving his arms.

"Chuck!" Sarah called, "are you trying to get yourself shot?"

"Idiot, Bartowski! We don't know if he's a captive or not! And, as much as I hate to say this, we need you alive!"

"Shoot them if they shoot me," Chuck said, "but I'm not leaving an injured Bryce out here."

The grey-with-dust white ute pulled up before him and a round-faced man with large glasses and a bald head poked his head out of the window.

"Hey, unless you have medical staff or something, get out of the way!" he called out, "we've got an injured man here and I need to get into that place behind you."

Chuck took a deep breath and projected his voice.

"My name is Charles Carmichael and I'm the person in charge here! We do have medical personnel who would be willing to take a look at your friend but I would like to see him first!"

"Not a chance!"

"Mozzie!" A femmine voice called out from the back in a demanding tone. "Let him see Neal. If he does anything, I'll start by shooting his toes off and then slowly moving up the body."

"Oh, that sounds painful," Chuck whispered, taking an involuntary step back.

Casey made an impressed noise.

"Chuck," Sarah said, about to protest. That was a threat and she didn't like the idea of him walking towards the people who made it.

"Don't worry," Chuck said, "if they wanted to kill us, we'd be dead by know, right?" He was probably stretching his logic a little bit but, there was someone injured. He hadn't missed how the woman had said 'Neal'.

He walked slowly towards the vehicle with his hands raised in the 'no weapons' position. The man in the back was lying on his side with two shirts tucked around his body and a red-ish haired woman pressing down on his injury. Lower back waist, Chuck noted with sadness. He didn't want to know the odds for surviving something like that.

Bryce was going to throw a fit.

Two bright blue eyes opened and looked at him.

"Hey, Chuck," Neal said in a breathless hush, "wanna play a game of blackjack?"

"If you can't beat me at your best, I really doubt you can win now," Chuck said, reaching for the radio strapped to his waist.

"Ellie! You there?"

"Yeah?"

"There's an injured man here. Can you and Awesome operate?"

"Can we? Honestly, Chuck?" She didn't sound impressed. "How bad is it?"

"Bullet wound to the lower back-slash-waist," Chuck said, "it looks bad."

"Okay." Her tone quickly turned all-business. "Bring him in. I'll grab Devon and get the infirmary ready."

"Thanks, Ellie," Chuck sighed in relief.


	10. Chapter 10

**Part 10**

* * *

"His name is Neal Caffrey," Peter explained, rushing after the rolling bed with Chuck by his side. Neither man knew what to make of the other but all questions on both sides were pushed aside by Neal's current condition. He was losing a lot of blood which was the biggest cause for concern, or so Ellie said.

"The generator's running for the infirmary," Chuck explained as they moved down the hall and swerved into a large room filled with medical equipment.

"I have to say, I never thought we'd use any of this," Awesome commented as he placed a mask over his face. To Peter, he looked like a man better suited to the beach than surgery.

Ellie looked over at Chuck's and Peter's worried faces.

"Out," she ordered, "you won't be able to help in your current condition. Get some rest, food and sleep."

"I don't need any of that," Chuck said, his voice wavering with emotion. Peter nodded in agreement.

"Then find Bryce," she said, "he'll want to know about this. Either way, I want you out so you don't distract us."

She and Chuck stared at each other for a moment before Chuck relented with a sad sigh. Peter glanced around in panic as Chuck placed a caring hand on his shoulder and guided him out.

"Wait! What about Neal?" he questioned, turning back to the doctors.

"We'll do the best we can."

"We'll save him, dude. Don't worry, be awesome." Peter found that to be a strange response and didn't have anything to say in reply. There was a window built into the wall which they could use to watch the operation however, they couldn't see much besides the two doctors leaning over a body on the operating table.

It was like something from one of Peter's nightmares.

"Well?" El asked when they exited.

"He'll be fine," Chuck said, with something like conviction. "My sister and Awesome are the best. They'll save him."

Sarah chose that moment to quickly walk over to them.

"We'll show you around while you wait," she said.

* * *

Down the hall from the infirmary room was a kitchen and a large dining area. It reminded Peter of high school. Sara's nose crinkled, Jones shivered and Mozzie's eyes narrowed at the sight of the plastic chairs, long tables and buffet style kitchen area.

"Look, it's not the nicest of places-" Sarah began to explain.

"Speak for yourself," Casey interrupted.

"But the food is decent."

"Dad," a voice said in a scolding tone as a long-haired brunette walked out and placed her hands on her hips.

"Alex."

"I heard you made Morgan go with you on patrol this morning," she said, "you know that Morgan gets up at the crack of dawn to collect milk, eggs and make our bread and breakfast. And I know you get up at dawn to exercise and stay strong but, Morgan should be cleaning the kitchen after breakfast, not running around with a gun in his hands."

"Alex, these are dangerous times. I need to be sure that he will be able to protect you if the time comes."

The brunette stuck out her lip and looked like she was about to say something more when Sarah intervened.

"Alex, this is... um," she trailed off as she realised they didn't know anyone's name.

"How rude of us, sorry," El said, stepping forward. "I'm Elizabeth Burke and this is my husband, Peter, his coworkers, Jones and Diana. This is Sara Ellis and Mozzie."

"Just Mozzie," Mozzie clarified.

"Nice to meet you all," Alex said in a confused tone.

"I hear new voices!" another voice said as a short man with a fuzzy beard and shark-fin hairstyle popped out from behind the kitchen counter. "Hi! I'm Morgan." He turned to Casey and asked cheerfully, "prisoners or visitors?"

Casey made an impressed sound before responding.

"Neither. They're staying."

"Well, nice to meet you." Morgan smiled and held out a hand for El to shake. "So, what's up? I thought only our team was using this place?"

"Yeah, well, Larkin hid things from us. Surprise, surprise," Casey's voice droned as he spoke.

Peter's group had no idea what to make of this. This group was taking everything in stride and each of them wondered if they even realised how the rest of the world was faring.

* * *

Sarah with Morgan, Casey and Alex all tagging along showed them to the cabins. There were ten of them, all lined up in a row. They were connected up to a generator but, it wasn't running. It wasn't like the cabins needed it. They were sparsely furnished. There was a bedroom with a king-sized bed and, outside in the central room, a set of bunk beds as well as a wooden table. And a balcony empty of any furnishings but with a lovely view of the nearby forest.

The bathroom only had a toilet as there were showers in the main building they just came from. It reminded Sara a little of the only time she went camping. She had lived rough before but it was never for an unknown period of time and never at a facility set up with shared showers, kitchen and dining.

Her discomfort was reflected in a few of the other's faces, surprisingly Mozzie was one of them. Or maybe that was his reaction to hearing that they would be sharing a cabin.

"It's either her or this guy," Sarah said, pointing at Jones.

"No way," Jones responded for Mozzie as the little guy spluttered in outrage. It was then that Sara noticed someone was missing.

"Where's Peter?" she asked El quietly. El just gave a smile and a shrug, glancing back towards the building they had left.

* * *

Peter had gone to watch over Neal. El promised to tell him anything important when he returned which was all he needed to hear. He stood at the window and watched the two doctors work.

"He'll be okay," Chuck said, making him jump. The younger man pointed to the chair he had been sitting in before continuing. "Awesome said the biggest issue they face is blood loss." Peter raised an eyebrow. "We have the perfect donor on site," Chuck explained quickly, "he arrived during your tour and I just finished extracting the donated blood from him."

"Perfect donor?" Peter questioned thinking that this was a little too convenient. His answer came in the form of a door opening and a messy dark haired man walking out of the room next to the operating room.

"See, Chuck? I'm fine. Don't need to rest any longer." He was rolling down he sleeves as he spoke which as why he didn't notice Peter until the last moment. "Uh... hi?"

Bryce didn't know how to react to the agent who arrested Neal. Even if he spun some kind of story, he didn't know whether the agent would believe it. Neal did say that he had some kind of uncanny ability to tell when people lied to him.

"You must be Bryce."


	11. Chapter 11

**Part 11**

* * *

"You must be Bryce."

Bryce nodded and felt like hitting his head against the wall. For the agent to figure it out so fast meant that Neal had told him something.

He didn't seem adverse to him, which meant that Neal might have told him about Bryce's job or it might mean that Neal hadn't told him about Bryce's job.

"What did Neal tell you about me?"

"You're his twin brother but anyone can see that." Peter hadn't expected Bryce to look so much like Neal though. It hurt a little after seeing Neal bleeding out earlier. "You're a spy and I get the feeling that people think you're superhuman."

"Superhuman?" Bryce's forehead crinkled. He had never heard someone say that before.

To his annoyance, Peter smirked and just shook his head. If the guy's hands were shaking a little and he wasn't as pale as he seemed, Bryce would have tried to get answers out of him. As it was, he realised that Peter had probably been there when Neal was shot and decided to give the man a break.

He sat down across the hall from the operation room and motioned for Peter to take the seat next to him.

"Neal'll be okay," he said, "my brother's impulsive and doesn't think but he never gives up. Plus, he's in the care of two of the best doctors I know."

"So people keep telling me," Peter commented. Bryce decided not to add that they were the only doctors he knew. Neal would appreciate the humour but he didn't think Peter would.

They sat mostly in silence and waited for news.

* * *

Both Peter's and Neal's presence were missed during the meal. Sara, El and Mozzie were quiet while Jones and Diana tried a little too hard to be normal. To top it off, the other people who were staying here; it wasn't hard to figure out that they called themselves 'Team Bartowski', were also eating.

Morgan could, in fact, cook. "I used to be a Benihana chef, well, chef in-training."

Alex was the least inexperienced of the group. "When everything went down, I thought it was just a blackout. At least, until dad came to the door and told me what really was going on. Turns out a plane came down at the end of the street and he was terrified that he wouldn't find me alive."

Casey didn't talk much and seemed to communicate primarily using grunts and sneers. But he didn't have much to say anyway. He grumbled at one point that he was still waiting for 'Larkin's report' but the White Collar crew had no idea what he meant. Sara whispered to Mozzie that Larkin was probably a person and Mozzie, with his 'rainman' memory, agreed. Casey had mentioned Larkin before.

"Come on, you both should eat," Chuck said as he walked through the door. No one could really see him as he was standing behind Peter and Bryce and pushing them through the door.

The people spread out along the table all froze. At the same time, two different names were announced;

"Neal?"

"Bryce?"

Confused glances were shared across the tables.

"This was one of the reasons I was happier waiting and not eating," Bryce sighed to Chuck.

"I don't get it?" Chuck questioned, tilting his head.

"They're twins," Peter pointed out in a loud voice for the benefit for those sitting down.

"Yeah, so?" Chuck still didn't get it.

"Neal didn't mention that," Sara pointed out with a glare at Bryce.

"Larkin didn't either," Casey echoed, adding, "Larkin didn't mention a lot of things."

"Can you blame me?" Bryce asked rhetorically.

"I'm still waiting on your report," Casey responded and Bryce sighed, looking a little worn out.

"Can it wait?" he asked, "my brother's in surgery and I got back from travelling just in time to give him blood to survive. I just want to eat, sleep and find out if my brother's going to live."

"Don't be a baby," Casey said, "of course he's going to live."

Bryce found that comforting even though he wasn't certain if Casey was attempting to comfort him.

"Have some stew," Alex offered, holding out a bowl for him and moving to get some for Peter and Chuck.

"How is he?" El asked when Peter sat down next to her.

"No idea," Peter sighed, "they're still operating which means he's still alive."

"That's some positive thinking there, Burke," Bryce snarked.

"Give me a break, I haven't slept well since this whole thing started," Peter grumbled back.

"Boys," Sarah said in warning with a glare. Bryce immediately backed down.

"You should eat," Chuck said to them as he nursed his own serving. "And then sleep."

* * *

Bryce stood at the head of the table in the Conference room. This room was located a short distance away from the rest of the buildings and was underground like a bunker. The entrance was hidden among rocks and the roots of a large tree.

While it was well outfitted and resembled the Conference room under the Buy More, it was lower-tech. There was only one computer screen, which wasn't running right now. The rest were cork-boards and whiteboards, filled with pictures, notes, connecting lines of string and scribbled theories. The words, FULCRUM and The Ring appeared a few times, as well as 'corrupt CIA agents' with 'third faction?' printed to the side.

"So, what have you discovered Larkin?" Casey questioned in his gruff tone. They knew whatever it was, was important as Bryce was back earlier than he should be.

"When everything went down, a new group seized power." Heads nodded, telling him to go on. "I still haven't been able to find out much about this group but they are well funded and well connected. From what I have managed to uncover, it seems like there are agents in the CIA who were waiting for this. They have seized as much power as they could in this chaos." He spread out a few pictures he had sketch. Neal wasn't the only one with the ability of a sketch artist. Bryce had to admit that he wasn't as good but, his pictures were good enough for the Intersect.

"Okay, so that's Kevin Shelby," Chuck said, pointing at one of the pictures of an older man. "He used to be Daniel Shaw's handler and was even a witness to his marriage."

"He visited the militia who are working in this state and stayed for a few hours before taking off. And I mean that literally. He's flying around in a blimp which attracts attention-"

"Which is exactly what he's after," Sarah finished, "he's establishing himself as the boss through actions."

"Huh?" Morgan questioned.

"Through the way he travels and acts. If he looks important, than people must assume he is."

"While the rest of the country, if not the world, is just trying to survive," Chuck muttered, not at all impressed with this guy. "You think it was him?"

All it took was one line of activation code to activate the Omen virus, one line of activation code which was entered manually. The virus activated, the militia appeared and the hostile takeover had begun.

Thousands dead, millions more to come and all for a play at controlling everything.

"I can't believe someone would nuke technology just for this," Morgan grumbled, "I want to punch this guy."

"Well, you'd have to catch him first," Bryce pointed out, "and none of us can fly. Modern airplanes with their computer controls are permanently grounded. Anything else would go down with whatever attack we launched at his blimp."

"How's he keeping it fuelled?" Sarah questioned.

"There's a stock of fuel on the blimp itself but that's all I've been able to figure out."

"Are we really going to do this?" Alex questioned, "are we really going to fight?"

"Even if Shelby isn't behind this, he probably knows who is," Casey answered, "taking them down won't fix the world but, it's all we've got."

"That's right," Chuck added, "it's our fault the Omen virus was released in the first place."

"We're going to need a plan," Ellie said. Awesome was watching over their patient so she could attend this meeting.

Everyone was silent. Bryce had managed to get a copy of Shelby's schedule but they still had no idea how to get to him.

"Shoot him down?" Casey suggested. He did have that really nice RPG gun he wanted to use.

"We need him alive," Bryce pointed out, "so we can question him."


	12. Chapter 12

** Part 12**

* * *

Bryce knew they were watching him. He could barely walk out of a room without someone appearing nearby. Mostly it was Chuck or Sarah. But, even Casey, Morgan, Ellie, Awesome and Alex had their turns. They would either talk to him or move alongside him or just watch.

Add in Neal's friends who alternated between hiding from him and watching him. A few of them did talk to him but he caught the looks which appeared whenever he did something they didn't expect; something different to Neal.

The only person who didn't bother him was Peter and that was because they were focused on the same thing. Neal's recovery. They both would spend time sitting beside the infirmary bed, just watching him sleep.

The first twenty-four hours were touch and go. Either Ellie or Awesome were in there the whole time, watching over him. Bryce's blood helped and Neal's colour returned.

Two days after he was shot, he woke up.

"Bryce?" he questioned, squinting his eyes at his brother.

"They had to call me back to help heal you, you idiot."

"No' true," Neal mumbled in response, "you were already on your way back. That's why the guys at the state checkpoint recognised me."

"Perceptive."

"And you're mad I got myself shot. You know I hurt, right?"

"I do now." Although it was obvious. You get shot, it hurts.

"Where are the doctors? I would like the pain to go away."

"They're out. You want me to give you something?"

Neal sighed and nodded. Bryce stood up and measured out the medication the way Ellie told him and inserted it into Neal's IV.

"There."

"Bryce?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I broke the promise. I just couldn't let Mozzie get hurt."

"You're not dead yet, Neal. So, technically, you're still keeping the promise." And Bryce added under his breath, "of course you have to do it the hard way..."

Neal quickly fell asleep.

* * *

A few days later, he was up and moving. While the doctors didn't want him working yet, he was still discontent to lay around in bed. And after the third time he had been caught walking around; twice by Peter and once by Bryce, they decided to relent and let him walk around.

It took him a few more days until he was strong enough to get to then underground conference room with his own power. Sara wasn't talking to him, she was mad about his getting shot, Mozzie was busy exploring and yet was still unable to figure out where Team Bartowski vanished to at certain times of the day, El was busy arranging schedules and jobs for around their tiny township and Diana and Jones were guards and doing manual labour to keep the place safe and running so he was hoping that Bryce's team would be a bit more accommodating.

"What's Peter doing down here?" Neal asked, seeing who was seated at the end of the table, next to Chuck.

"Neal, what do you know about Kevin Shelby?" Peter asked, motioning to the corkboards where information about their target was mapped out. He completely dodged the question and Neal couldn't resist a challenge.

There was a scribbled out itinerary with pieces of information. It felt like there was a lot of missing information.

While they had lots of information on the man himself, there was little collected from after OMEN hit.

"Did you know that he was going to do this?" Neal questioned, looking around at the people gathered in the room.

"What?" Bryce questioned.

"You have this much information about him from before the computer wipe, it show fore-planning," he explained, "did you know that he was going to take over?"

Bryce realised what he meant and looked to Chuck for permission to tell Neal and Peter about the Intersect. Chuck went on further and actually explained himself including, to Bryce's horror, the two instances of Bryce getting shot. It was a good thing that he hadn't hassled Neal about getting shot.

Neal gave him a dirty look about it but didn't comment.

"Okay, so Chuck has a computer in his head which you can get information from," Neal summarised. He thought about it for a moment and looked over the information. "Kevin Shelby, know aliases... Kelvin James? Hey, Mozzie knows this guy."

* * *

Sara snapped her fingers in Mozzie's face while Diana giggled, yes, giggled. Bryce had just finished explaining what was going on, leaving out the CIA part but adding in the part about Kevin 'Kelvin' being a spy.

Mozzie's jaw had dropped and he hadn't spoke a word.

"I think he's out of it," El commented in a worried tone, "we could try using tea to rouse him?"

"You think he would have had this reaction earlier," Morgan mused, "considering he's been staying in a compound set up by spies."

"What?" Jones and Sara questioned. Diana glanced at Peter, who nodded in confirmation.

"Whoa! Not a spy!" Neal was quick to point out. "Not even close to a spy. Tell him, Peter!"

"Well, having a brother who's a spy is technically close to a spy," Sarah pointed out instead.

Neal responded with, "I knew there was a reason I never liked you because when you were dating my brother."

Diana was the one to put together the drama which was the Chuck-Sarah-Bryce love triangle, or the only one to realise that Neal revealed that Bryce had been with Sarah and Chuck and Sarah were now married.

"That wasn't very nice," Morgan said. Neal ignored him.

By this time, Mozzie was starting to come out of his stupor. And he was furious.

"Neal! You brought me to a place built by spooks! Government spooks!"

"When did they say 'government'?" Sara questioned.

"They're all government spooks!" Mozzie informed her, loudly. His hands whipped through the air as he spoke. "There are no other kinds!" And then he seemed to recall that he was yelling at Neal. "You never told me this! Not about your brother-!"

"I knew you'd freak out," Neal responded but Mozzie wasn't listening.

"Or your connection to the man! And now you've exposed us all!"

"Does he think being a spy is a disease?" Alex whispered to Morgan.

"Mozzie, stop," Peter said sternly, "Neal took a bullet for you so the least you can do is hear him out."

Mozzie paused, glared at Peter like this was his fault and then turned to Neal. He crossed his arms.

"Well?"

For once, Neal was without words. His mouth opened and then closed. He knew what he could say to fix this; he knew a few things to say to fix this. But, most would mean denying his brother or hurting Mozzie in the long run.

Silence was the best option. Let Moz think it over.


	13. Chapter 13

**Part 13**

* * *

Mozzie didn't need to pack, he just walked right towards the gate.

"You're not going to stop me!" he called back to the mousey brown haired Chuck. He needed to remember that this harmless looking mark was really a cold spy for the Man.

"I don't plan too," he responded, "I thought I would apologise."

That made Mozzie pause.

"Apologise?" he questioned.

"My group, we've had a lot of problems with the CIA. One of those involved two CIA agents, Decker and Shaw. During our fight with Decker, he sent Casey to prison and made us work with him order to free him. He asked us to steal the OMEN virus. The end result was the OMEN being released, allowing Shaw to come after us. He tried to kill us, again, might I add, and we turned the virus against him. We thought we stopped it. It looks like we only stalled it. So, I wanted to apologise for causing this situation."

"Should you be telling me this? This sounds like highly classified information." Mozzie questioned.

Chuck shrugged.

"There's no more CIA. The virus probably wiped us out. We're disconnected, unable to get information on the it's not safe to just walk around."

* * *

_At the Buy-More, the lights flickered and then went out. Chuck looked up and then around. Everything had been shut off. No power._

_"Customers of the Buy-More!" Morgan announced through a megaphone. Or so he thought. The megaphone didn't appear to be working. "We apologise but we will be closing early due to technical difficulties!" With that said, he jumped off the Nerd Herd desk and wandered over to Chuck, ignoring Big Mike's protests that they could still do business. _

_"Was there an outage scheduled today?" Morgan asked Chuck in a curious tone._

_"It's probably just a power-surge," Chuck commented, pulling out a laptop. He opened it and then pressed the power button._

_ Nothing._

_"Strange," he commented, trying again. The laptop had been on the charge all morning, there was no way it could be out of battery already._

_"Bartowski, we've got trouble," Casey said, appearing suddenly and pointing to the door where a dark head of hair was making its way towards them. _

_ It was Bryce, who told them about what was happening. They also had the chance to see it for themselves; Chuck really could have gone without that part._

_ The image of men in riot gear, pounding down doors and rushing in with guns was burned into his mind. He didn't know why they were there, although he guessed they were either searching for something or trying to keep the population under control, but he heard gunshots go off a moment later._

* * *

Mozzie left and Neal was depressed. He didn't let anyone see it but those who knew him realised. Which meant that Casey, Sarah, Morgan and Alex were the only ones who didn't realise.

He kept working on the Shelby problem and scribbling out plan after plan.

"Neal, maybe you should give it a break?" Peter suggested.

"That's a brilliant idea!" Bryce responded, automatically moving to stack and organise the papers Neal had been working with. Neal's hand slapped down on a short pile near him when Bryce reached for it.

"Leave it alone," he said in a low but tired voice.

"Neal-"

"No, I'm getting this done!" Neal countered. "Otherwise, what was the point of coming all the way out here?"

"You know that taking down Shelby won't fix this?" Bryce said. "Communication lines, power lines and everything electronic has to be replaced."

"Taking down Shelby is a start," Neal grumbled back.

Bryce sighed. He had no idea what to say to make Neal feel better. It was also annoying the way he was acting. Neal knew why he came out here; it was because they spent huge sums of money outfitting this place. This was the place which offered the best protection and survival.

"Could have gone after him," Bryce grumbled, "no one stopped you. Chuck even went after him."

"Shut up," Neal grumbled back, "it's not like that would have helped. He still left, didn't he?"

"Well, maybe if you hadn't brought him here-"

"Bryce! Neal!" Peter scolded, seeing that they were about to get into a fight. They both paused and glared at him. "It's no one's fault. Besides, Mozzie will come back. He always comes back." It was something that Peter had found annoying before this. Mozzie's unpredictability; he would vanish for a few days, weeks or so and then suddenly appear again. Peter used to have to watch Neal much closer whenever Mozzie was around.

"There," Bryce agreed with his arms crossed. "He'll come back."

"If he's not dead," Neal mumbled under his breath. He had forgotten how dangerous it was out there until he overheard Casey talking about it.

"He's fine," Peter insisted. But he could see that Neal didn't believe him. He sighed. "Come on, Neal." He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's go get something to eat." Neal nodded but then winced a little. "What's wrong?"

"I'm... going to need a little help," Neal mumbled in shame, hand moving to press at his side.

"Jeez," Bryce sighed, moving to support Neal's other side. "This is why you shouldn't be working so hard."

Now that he was showing pain, it was easier to keep Neal away from work. For almost twenty-four hours, Bryce and Peter managed to keep him occupied. First, Bryce goaded Neal into actually eating an entire meal. Then Peter spent some time discussing Neal's plans with him; most which Peter thought were unworkable and borderline crazy.

When it was time for Peter to stand guard and patrol, he passed Neal-watching duty to El. El had become close friends with Ellie over the past few days and they looked over Neal's injuries, changed his bandage and let him settle in for a nap. Neal claimed not to need it but there was no way he would be able to sneak out of the room with El, Ellie and Bryce watching him.

Bryce was there because Ellie had called for him while she checked Neal over. Before Neal woke up, Bryce had been called up by Morgan to help him in the kitchens. Casey found Bryce washing dishes when it was time for them to switch guard shifts.

Sara kept Neal busy until Peter's shift ended and Jones replaced him and Peter then took Neal out while he helped out in the gardens with Alex. The gardens were fast becoming Casey's pride and joy with her help.

Both teams worked together to keep the twins busy.

* * *

It worked until the pigeon landed. The small bird was unnoticed until it came to land on the ground between the main building and the cabins. It hopped across the ground, looking for food but didn't take flight. Not even when Casey growled at it and Morgan charged at it.

"Maria?" Neal gasped when he spotted it. He broke away from Sara and stumbled over to the bird, picking it up in his hands.

"It's a carrier pigeon," Bryce realised.

"Mozzie breeds them," Peter recalled, slightly annoyed at being right.

"That's right, he told me about Estelle," El added, "although, I don't think I've heard about Maria."

"How do you tell the difference?" Peter questioned, shaking his head at the absurdity.

"Hmm. Smart guy," Casey commented, approving the decision to have carrier pigeons. Morgan made a face and muttered something about diseases.

By this time, Neal had pulled the message out and was reading it. He smirked.

"What is it?" Diana asked.

"'Got him 'hook, line, sinker'," Neal read. He looked over the confused faces. "Mozzie and I would spend ages talking over different cons to use. 'Hook, line, sinker' is what we titled one of them." Under his breath he added, "we never did get to try it."

"Another 'Perfect Exchange'," Peter grumbled, remembering the time Mozzie had let himself be taken by gun-wielding hostage takers in order to save one of his lady-friends. The only clue he gave them was the 'Perfect Exchange', which wasn't so perfect.

"You telling me that your little friend has set up a con on Kevin Shelby?" Casey questioned. Neal nodded. "There's no way he'll fall for it."

"Wait," Bryce said, "he might. Mozzie had an in; he knew him before all this went down. And we have Shelby's timetable, we're able to meet them wherever they are."

"You're talking like you have a plan," Chuck commented. Bryce and Neal both gave him a confident look. "You do have a plan." He didn't sound enthusiastic.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes: **Uh, yeah. This is the last chapter. I don't think I'll be writing apocalypse fanfic again… but I've tried to tie everything up (type and hit the review button if you have any questions). Anyway, I've got a few one-shots I want to finish and post before my next multi-chapter work so, stay tuned!

Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Part 14**

* * *

The plan was a simple one at the core of it, get Shelby away from his chosen mode of transportation and capture him. Unfortunately, that meant they had to get around Shelby's chosen guards and to the man himself.

Add in how technology and electricity were down and they had more complications. No comms and no way of communicating once the plan went into action.

Early in the morning, a tall strawberry blond woman stalked into the hanger where Shelby's blimp was being stored and worked on so that they could weather the incoming storm.

She was followed by a darker woman dressed in a shirt, vest and pants with a hard expression.

"We're looking for Mozzie," the blond, Sara, said to the guards who stopped them. "Short with glasses?"

There were some snickers and she was certain she heard a few derogatory comments. Diana, who was playing her guard, pasted a dissatisfied frown onto her face. She would say something to put them in their places but Neal had stressed that she remain silent and let her actions speak for her. He said something about her mannerisms being too 'cop-ish'.

Sara also frowned but she was supposed to be in charge. Those were their roles; the capable fence and her bodyguard. She lightly slapped the back of her hand to the closest guard, an indication for him to get out of her way.

"We're here to do business," she said, letting them think whatever they wanted to think, even though it burnt. She was going to have words with Neal when this was all over. Or Bryce. It was a crazy thought but she thought it might be good to have the more responsible, her mind supplied the word 'older', twin on her side.

The guard looked her up and down again before sighing and leading her around to a back room, guarded by two more men.

Shelby certain didn't have a lack of people looking to die for him.

Mozzie, Shelby and a few other men they didn't know the names of were sitting around a table playing poker.

Diana's nose scrunched in distaste and Sara shot Mozzie a glare. If Mozzie was surprised to see them, he hid it well.

"Ah, my associates," he greeted them.

"Them?" one of them men questioned with a smirk. Sara stood tall and glared down at him.

"A fence is a fence," Mozzie responded with a shrug. "No matter if they have a bodyguard or not."

"That's not what they were talking about," Diana grumbled. Neal's advice going out the window. She was an FBI agent and she could take care of herself undercover.

"Women are dangerous," Shelby commented to the man, "and it is only a foolish man who overlooks that."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or not," Sara commented with a hint of a smile. She then turned to Mozzie. "So, are we going to do this or not?"

Sara had a stolen necklace in her possession and a few paintings Neal had forged in the past, 'just in case', to 'fence' to Shelby. Her job was to stall and distract.

* * *

Outside, Jones and Casey were walking around. They were dressed in the same uniforms as Shelby's 'guard' and had IDs pinned to their shirts. The uniforms came courtesy of Bryce, who managed to acquire a set and the IDs had been whipped up by Neal from a description given to him by his brother.

The same guards who snickered at the women walked up to them.

"Haven't seen two around before."

"Forget about that, is that vodka?" Jones smiled and held his bottle a little higher.

"Sorry," he said, "it's only flat lemonade. Since the wife can't made coffee without the coffee machine or a kettle, I've resorted to getting my energy elsewhere."

"Elsewhere, huh?" One of the other men wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, to the annoyance of the first speaker.

"That's right," Jones responded with a knowing smirk. He heard Casey scoff behind him as the other laughed but didn't pay him much mind. If he ignored Casey and got the guards involved in conversation with him, then they wouldn't notice if the second newcomer vanished. Or so Bryce said.

None of the other men seemed to notice when Jones passed Casey the bottle behind his back as Casey walked, more like stomped, off. While Jones entertained them with stories of women, Casey made his way inside the blimp.

While he was of large stature, Casey was trained to move quickly and silently without drawing attention to himself or others. While he wouldn't mind shooting anyone he came across to keep them from questioning him, more than a few members of their 'group' had made it clear that killing wasn't an option except in self-defence.

Casey made do with knocking out any of the few guards he encountered inside. He made his way into the large storage area of the blimp and opened the bottle. It wasn't lemonade like Jones' claimed, nor was it alcohol.

It was gasoline.

Casey stuffed a cloth wick inside and lit the top using a lighter. He tossed the Molotov cocktail into the air so that it hit the sides of the blimp and ignited.

With a 'fwhoom', the blimp quickly began to go up in smoke and fire. Casey dashed for safety.

* * *

Sara managed to broker the deal for the sale of one of the items for a reasonable price; Peter had told her to accept at least one deal so Shelby wouldn't get suspicious and she was kind of sick of all the advice she had been given before this case. As they were discussing one of the other items Shelby appreciated, there were cries and a commotion outside.

"What the-?" the man sitting next to Shelby questioned.

"Idiots," Shelby snorted in distaste. It was obvious that he didn't think much of the people who worked under him. Sara thought that kind of attitude always came back to bite you.

There were more cries and the noise grew in volume until they had to check what was going on.

Sara gasped as they opened the door and a wave of heat hit them. Before them was a large fireball, crackling and crumbling.

Shelby immediately began to have a fit, even demanding to know why the fire sprinklers weren't working.

"Sir, there's no water for them to use!" one of the men running around with buckets of water explained. The buckets weren't being used to put out the fire, only to wet things to use to protect people and keep the fire from spreading.

Shelby spluttered. Sara was surprised that this had even worked.

"Hmm, I have a safe house I'm willing to dispose of," Mozzie said to her and Diana, loud enough for Shelby to hear. "We can lie low there for a while and then head off."

"What? You just happen to have another blimp or something?" Diana snorted and Sara nodded in agreement.

"I happen to have a limo and a plentiful supply of fuel," Mozzie said.

A limo was the next best thing to a blimp, or so Neal had theorised. Bryce hadn't been so sure.

It appeared he needed to rethink his stance because Shelby took the bait. As soon as they were out of sight of his guards, who were all busy with the fire threatening not only to destroy the blimp but also take out the entire area, Casey shot Shelby with a dart to knock him out.

* * *

"This feels too easy," Peter mused as he looked at the man tied up in the chair.

"Speak for yourself, Suit," Mozzie grumbled. The little guy was not in a good mood after the suits and spooks took over his safe house. He would have to burn the place, which wasn't good considering he didn't know whether he would be able to put another one together in current times.

"Thanks for letting us stay here, Moz," Neal said from his seat at the table. Next to him was Bryce, who was frowning. He had already made it clear that he wanted to question Shelby but Casey and Chuck and Sarah had all told him no. They were worried that he might seriously injure the guy since his goons had shot Neal. Even though Neal was mostly recovered, Bryce was still worried.

"We did a good job, that's all," Sara said, although she gave Neal a glare for admitting that he had stolen goods hidden here. She wondered how many of them had been insured by Sterling Bosh.

"It was good to work with you," Jones said to Casey. Casey made a sound of agreement.

Shelby began to stir and Mozzie guided the twins, Diana, Sara, Sarah, Chuck, and Jones up the stairs, leaving Peter and Casey downstairs to question him.

"Is Peter going to be okay?" Neal asked Bryce as he had an idea of how different FBI and CIA/NSA 'questioning techniques' were.

"Good cop, bad cop," Bryce said as explanation. Neal nodded as if this explained everything.

"Uh, what?" Chuck questioned.

"Peter's going to question him first and then give him time alone with Casey, if he doesn't talk," Neal informed him.

Mozzie sighed and stood up.

"I'm going to send a message back to the Mrs. Suit and Co," he explained as he walked in the direction of his pigeon coop. He had it moved here when he first arrived, so that they could send messages back to those who didn't come.

It didn't take long to break him. Peter was a scary interrogator when he needed to be and having an idea what Casey might do if he didn't manage to get the story out of Shelby was incentive enough.

It turned out that the OMEN virus wasn't the only reason for the technological collapse. It had been supported by Roark Instruments, which had been building a similar virus into any programs and technology it released.

"So, do we go after the CEO of RI?" Neal questioned.

"Can't," Chuck said.

"Ted Roark is dead," Sarah informed them. Team Bartowski had been the ones to arrest Roark, who had been murdered in custody.

Bryce muttered a curse under his breath. The CIA hadn't gotten close to anything Roark worked on except the Intersect; they had no idea what this virus could have been.

"Who replaced him?" Jones asked.

"No one yet," Chuck answered, "and probably never now." There was silence for a few moments.

"So, what next?" Sara asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Everyone quietly pondered that. When Mozzie returned and asked what was going on, he thought about it for about three seconds.

"Well, do you know anyone who could take Shelby's place? We took him out, we might as well put someone else there. Preferably someone less likely to take shots at Neal."

"That's... actually a good idea," Bryce mused. Surprise tainted his words and Mozzie glared at him.

"We may agree in this instance, however! I don't like you."

"I don't care."

"Really?" Neal added. He shook his head at their childish antics.

* * *

The group of ten returned to the home base days later, tired and mostly ready for proper beds. Elizabeth greeted them happily, having changed most of the sheets and cleaned out the cabins with Morgan's help. Morgan and Alex had cooked up a meal for them using the vegetables from the garden.

"Where's the meat?" Peter questioned as he searched the soup with his spoon.

"Not a balanced diet, guys," Awesome agreed.

"Have to wait for the chicks to grow up," Alex explained, "as for the rest..." she shot Morgan a glare.

"I'm not going to shoot a cute little bunny," Morgan stated, crossing his arms.

"'Cute little bunny' equals meat," Casey pointed out, "and that bunny wouldn't hesitate to feed you to its family if it had to."

"Bunnies don't eat meat," Chuck pointed out.

"Are they really having this conversation?" Neal questioned Bryce, who nodded.

"Would you shoot a bunny?" Morgan asked the twins.

"Yes."

"No."

The two groups sitting at the table froze and turned to the twins.

"Uh, did they switch on us?" Jones asked.

"I've been hunting," Neal pointed out, "a friend of the family used to take us."

"Don't remind me," Bryce grumbled, looking a little sick at the thought.

"What?" Neal said, seeing the way everyone was looking at him. "Maybe I didn't like it and I much prefer the city but I have shot 'bunnies' before. Besides, they're pests."

Morgan was horrified. Alex was triumphant.

"See?" she said. "They agree with me."

"I'm not cooking for you people no more."

"Not a problem," Bryce said, "Neal can cook."

"Maybe we should do up some kind of jobs chart," Chuck mused, "like the Buy More schedule."

Morgan protested, but everyone else except Mozzie agreed that it was a good idea. Mozzie didn't want his name on any schedule; besides that was how people found you. He thought they should be extra careful because they just took out a powerful guy. All his protests gained him was a position as a security expert.

Chuck also revealed that he had been working on some kind of walkie-talkie which would allow them to stay in contact, but he was still experimenting.

Diana somehow ended up being the one who everyone talked to. It wasn't until Ellie decided to give her an office that she realised she had somehow become the group therapist. And everyone settled into the new normal.


End file.
